


A Gift of a Rurouni

by Nessavanator



Series: Rurouni Kenshin - beneath the surface [2]
Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: F/M, liveaction, liveaction movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-30
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 12:13:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9123109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nessavanator/pseuds/Nessavanator
Summary: He gave her something that he had thought long since gone.  She gave him something he dared not believe he deserved.





	

She saw her death then.

The dark eyes of the hitokiri that mocked her, that spat on her training, her very mantra.

He raised his sword to her, and she saw that despite her greatest effort, finding this creature who caused the discourse and terror in Tokyo, she would not survive the day to defend her father, her dojo’s honor.

But she would not look away from that blade, she would stand before her death a warrior to the end.

A flash of color and suddenly firm but gentle arms caged her, sheltered her as they rolled away from the tip of the blade.

The smiling face of the rurouni defied the tension of the situation. But she saw within his eyes the understanding of the predicament as he handed back her handkerchief.

He drew her behind him as they stood, but even between both their strengths, Kaoru was not certain of their safety. She should push him away, make him run. At least his death would not be senseless.

The rurouni was surprisingly agile, and well trained. Her eye could pick up the subtle movements as he countered the battousai few steps. A dance of death that he seemed trained in just the same.

Then the dark eyes of the demon man changed and the rurouni held a battle pose.

In the distance the shrill whistle of the police sounded. 

A lifeline.

“Run,” the rurouni said in a deep voice that broached no argument. There was none she wished to supply either.

 

After the discussion at the dojo Kaoru felt hollow. Felt the defeat right into her bones at the truth of the rurouni’s words. Although he gave her the impression this would not be the last they would meet. Alluding to the fact he would search out the monster in the night hours without her request or bidding.

She had a restless sleep, the wound on her arm bothering her.

She awoke early to began the chores that were endless at the dojo with just her hands to do them these days, and the few students that did attend on the odd day. This time she was lucky that Yahiko kept her company, but she would never tell the little samurai.

The gang arrived not long after, harassing her to sell the dojo, they paced like a pack of wolves, then began to vandalize the dojo, and made to attack her and Yahiko. She felt their grimy hands on her, taking improper liberties and insighting further rage.

Then then entered the dojo. With no respect. With their shoes still on.

She shrieked at them in her anger, and they continued to mock her, she prepared to battle them. Unafraid, and inspired by rage.

The rurouni appeared then, returning from his night watch. 

It was amazing to see the very art that was his battle form. Kaoru although she made to assist, could do nothing but watch with Yahiko mouth open in awe. He needed no assistance, and seemed to handle it with ease, not even withdrawing his sword until the very end where he admitted the very truth he had been confronted with not a day before.

“You… you are…” she whispered, and he looked at her.

His gaze was guarded, as though expecting her to scream, expecting insults, accusations. But she had met the imposter of her school, the one tarnishing her name. She did not realize that creature also tarnished the rurouni as well. An odd partnership in this happenstance.

She felt something flicker in her heart. Something oddly warm, beyond gratitude, beyond acquaintance and it left her without words.

She could only hold his gaze, as he tried to read what was within the depths of the woman before him, a woman with so much more strength then he had yet to give her credit for. She stood tall among a gang ready to continue to defend her home. She did not cower before him with the knowledge of his past falling from his own lips.

She regarded him with grace, with thanks, and something he dare not put to words. He could not have her acceptance, her could not fathom it. There was no acceptance for the monster. 

But… it did not waver.

Perhaps this was why as the police dragged him away, he told her his true name. A name he had not used in decades. A name that he had thought died but that was the gift he gave her before he left, assuming they wouldn’t meet again.


End file.
